


Once Upon A Time... Not

by dahliadragonheart



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: #TwinSquad, All relationships are eventual exept for Remile and Joan and Talyn, Basically a Twin AU, Bullying, F/F, Genderfluid Deceit | Janus Sanders, High School AU, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, Trans Male Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Verbal Fighting, Virgil POV, Virgil doesn't really talk all that much, Virgil gets a support doggo, and then suddenly everyone had one, but then my muse took over, selective mutism, seriously, there's a dog, when I started writing this there were only one pair of twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2020-11-27 15:51:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20950967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahliadragonheart/pseuds/dahliadragonheart
Summary: Virgil Blake moves to Gainesville, Florida at the age of 16 with his father and twin sister after his mother’s death. He doesn’t believe in a ‘happily, ever after’. At least not for himself. Virgil thinks it is stupid because he’s seen for himself that not even his parents got to have one, even though they always told him they would while he was a child.He moves to Florida with the opinion that fairy-tales are stupid - that or he fears them - and that he will never have a ‘happily, ever after’. But how wrong he is proven when he bumps into Roman Garcia, Patton Maine, and Logan Connors. He gets whirled up in his very own - down to earth - fairy-tale.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Salutations.
> 
> I was inspired by something my teacher said in class one day. Well, he mentioned 'Once Upon A Time' and I was like: Once Upon A Time is dead. No maybe, Once Upon A Time doesn't exist. Not. AAHHHH!
> 
> Might be Prinxiety, might be LAMP. I don’t know, we’ll see how it goes.
> 
> It didn’t start out like it, but it ended up basically being a twin AU, meaning everyone has a twin. At least the gang. They’re called the twin-squad in school because they are all friends and often hang out together. TS for short. You know? Like Thomas Sanders? Alright, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!
> 
> Long story short, I started writing and all of a sudden, I had planned out future chapters and written character sheets.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil and his twin are moving with their father to America three months after their mother's death. Virgil finds a mysterious box under his bed that seemingly belongs to her. Does he open it? And what could it hold?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, self-deprecating thoughts, mentions of minor character death, panic attack, unintentional child neglect, a dad joke or two (they are bad). Let me know if I missed any.

‘Once upon a time’ is not real. ‘Happily, ever after’ doesn’t exist. I once believed it did, but so did everyone else. I was just a kid. Like everyone else.

At least, ‘happily, ever after’ doesn’t exist to people like me. I will never have it, no matter how much I might want it. So, ‘once upon a time’ is dead. So is ‘happily, ever after’.

These kinds of thoughts are not an uncommon occurrence for me. Though usually, they are worse. I would’ve thought they would have been worse, seeing as Father, my sister, and I are moving to a completely different country, away from my mother’s grave. The only positive I can see is the fact that I don’t have to wear school uniform anymore.

A knock on my door. “Are you done packing the rest of your stuff?” my father asks. He doesn’t open it. Probably too scared that he would find me collapsed on the floor like he did my mother.

I don’t answer. At least not verbally. I send him a text. A text saying I had been done for quite some time. I have been laying in my bed for a long time now, stuck in my thoughts. As much as I didn’t want to move, I didn’t want to stay, either. Too many memories. Memories of her.

“That’s good. That’s good. Uh, yeah. I’ve made some dinner. It’s not much but, yeah. I would like the three of us to eat dinner one last time before we move. You don’t have to, but I would like it, and I think it would be good for the three of us,” Father says tentatively like I’m gonna bolt out the window if he speaks too loudly or something.

I consider it. I _have _been closing myself off for some time now. School was a no-go. Father thought so, too, so he had made an arrangement with the school. They sent everything to me digitally so I would still be able to keep up with school. And I don’t like being behind, but school just became too much after Mother…

I shook my head. I really didn’t wanna think about her right now. That would only open up too many wounds. I open up my phone again to answer Father yes, I will be down in a few minutes. I then hear footsteps leaving my door.

I sigh. Might as well get it over with. It’s been three months, but it’s still really awkward at the dinner table when I actually on rare occasions venture downstairs. And it’s the last day we’re staying here anyway. What better way to say goodbye than having one last ‘family-dinner’?

Another knock on my door. This one lighter, almost ghost-like. “Hey, it’s me. Can I come in?” It’s my twin sister’s voice. I knock on my wall once for yes. She enters and slowly walks over to me and tentatively sits down on the edge of my bed. “You know you don’t have to come down if you’re not feeling up to it, right? Father won’t hold it against you.”

I sit up. _“I know,” _I sign before hanging my head, looking down at the mattress. I feel a hand on my knee and look up to meet her eyes with a soft smile on her lips. I hesitate before continuing. _“I just feel like I owe it to her, you know?”_

“I know Vee, I know,” she says softly. She takes my hand and gives it what I’m assuming is meant to be a comforting squeeze. She’s the only one I’ve allowed to touch me since we buried Mother. She’s the only one whose touch doesn’t feel like it can send me into a panic attack.

I give her a small smile in return. She releases my hand, and I start signing. _“Should we head downstairs then?”_ At that, she smiles and nods to me before standing up. I frown when she doesn’t head to the door, but to one of the moving boxes. She’s picking something up, but I can’t see it from my angle.

“Here,” she says softly and turns around. She’s standing with my hoodie. The one I worked on with Mother. My patchwork hoodie. Black with stitched on purple plaid patches. “It’s a bit cold downstairs, might wanna wear this,” she smiles.

I just stare at her. Is she serious? There was a reason why I packed it down in the first place. After a few moments, I slowly reach out for it. It feels weird to hold it again. I look to her with a questioning look, but she just nods to me. Then I notice that she is wearing the jacket she made with Mother.

A tear falls from my eye with no accompanying sound. I open up my mouth to speak, but no sound came. I close it and try again. It takes a few more tries, but eventually, I’m able to croak out “Thank you,” before winching. I hadn’t used my voice in days, it sounded awful.

But she just smiles at me. I then put on the hoodie, sips it up and looks at her. She has her hand outstretched to me. “Shall we, brother dear?” she smiles at me. I nod and take her hand.

When we come downstairs, the table is set for the three of us with what looks like some improvised veggie stew on the table.

“Hey you two, I made veggie stew.” Oh no, Father just tried to make a rhyme. We’re in for it. He’s gonna make us sit through a _lot_ of super _bad_ dad jokes and puns, all in the name of trying to cheer us up. And worst of all? That tactic always works!

My sister giggles a bit. “Nice. Though it looks like you just raided the fridge,” she winks at Father. Ah, because we’re moving and need to have the fridge cleared out. I roll my eyes and sign, good-naturedly, to her to shut up.

My Father minutely sags. Maybe he had hoped I would talk, but I haven’t actually had a verbal conversation since Mother died. Don’t know why he would get his hopes up.

“Well, Virgil, Anastacia, I present to you: some veggie stew. And yes, it’s basically what was left in the fridge, so anything we don’t eat everything tonight, we’ll bring with us at our travels to America.” He sighs. “I know you still miss your mother dearly, trust me, I know, but we will have to move on eventually. Who knows? Maybe this new start in America is precisely what we need,” he tries, smiling a bit. He was hoping for us to make friends. For _me_ to make friends since Ann didn’t have a problem with that. But I have her, don’t need other people in my life that I will lose eventually. I lost Mother, I’ve almost lost Father, and with the move to America, I might lose my twin, for the most part, to her future-to-be friends. Bottom line, if I get attached to someone, I will lose them. Either they die, or they abandon me. Simple as that.

Ann gives my hand another squeeze, pulling me out of my thoughts, and we sit down at the table. The stew is actually pretty good, considering Father can’t really cook all that well.

After we ate, I went back to my room. The moving truck will be coming later in the evening, so I have to get what I need for the trip and get the boxes ready for pick-up. I hate that we are leaving. It’s doing nothing good for my anxiety. I hate change.

Moving to a new school means all new people. New bullies. Just hope they won't discover my binder as fast. They will eventually though. And that only adds to the things that are wrong with me; the things bullies can use against me.

I rummage through the last box to get my sketch pad and pencils. I put my fidget cube on the lid of the box, but with me moving it, I accidentally knock it under my bed. My bed which we will be leaving behind. The bed Mother always would sit so tentatively on and card her fingers through my hair and guide me through my panic attack. How she would lay down on it and sign me lullabies and point out constellations and the stories behind them and NO! Stop thinking about that!

I sigh. It’s gonna be a long night. I bend down to pick up the cube and notice a glint. It’s a wooden box. It’s gathered a lot of dust. I don’t even remember putting it down there, so it must have been sitting there for a long time. The glint came from the sun shining on the lock. A combination lock. Hmm, I wonder. Mother and I always used the same number-combination for these kinds of things, so if it were Mother’s, I would still be able to open it. The question now is, do I open it?

Fidget cube and art supplies forgotten at the moment, I slowly put in the right combination of numbers and open it. What? I might be an anxious mess, but sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me, okay?

The first thing I notice is the engraving on the inside of the lid. It’s beautiful, artistic, looks incredibly complicated, and, most importantly, something my mother used to make! I flinch back at the sudden realisation. Nonononono! This is bad! Very bad! I don’t want painful memories of her flooding my mind!

I start doing my breathing exercises. In for four seconds. Hold for seven. And out for eight. Repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Repeat until I have my breathing under control and I’m sure I won't have a flashback.

It’s pitch black. Is it night already? Oh, my eyes are closed. That’s why. When did I close my eyes? I slowly open them. And look straight into Ann’s eyes. She looks distraught. That’s when I notice a tapping on my knee. Tap tap tap tap. Pause. Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap. Pause. Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap. Repeat. 4-7-8. Oh.

She’s speaking, but I can’t hear her. Instead, I read her lips. _‘you hear me, Virgil? There you are. Can you hear me? Tap once for yes and twice for no. Please?’_ I tap twice. She nods. Then she disappeared from my view. She returned after what felt like an eternity. With something in her hand. My fidget cube. I wonder why… oh nevermind. This is nice. I look up at her again. She’s signing something to me. I don’t catch it, so I just stare at her. She smiles softly. At me. Why would she smile to me? I’m not worth it. She looks down now. I follow her eyes and my eyes land on a piece of paper.

‘You’re doing great. Keep going, Vee. I’m proud of you. Please keep focusing on your breathing.’

I look to her again. I watch as she slowly leans towards me. I don’t flinch. I never do when it’s her. She brushes my cheek. Her hand comes away wet, I notice. Wet from my tears. When did I start crying? She opens her mouth again.

“How you feeling now, Vee? Is there anything else I can do?” I can hear her again. I don’t know how to answer, though. My hands are shaking too much to sign. She moves her hand again, slowly, as to let me know what she wants to do. I follow her hand with my eyes. She’s reaching for the paper. Scribbles something on it.

‘Water, blanket, fidget cube, paper and pencil, stuffed animal, other.’

“Could you point to one of these? Very good, you’re doing amazing,” she says after I point to the blanket and stuffed animal. “I’ll be right back, Vee.”

She doesn’t return. It’s been a long time. Where is she? It feels like she left hours ago. My breathing picks up again, and so does my anxiety. Suddenly I feel something on my shoulders. I jolt. Oh, it’s just a blanket. Ann didn’t leave me after all. I can see her again. I can feel she is tapping my knee again. I try to match my breathing to it. It is hard, but after I don’t know how long, I can breathe normally again. Finally. She is handing me something. A stuffed animal. Why is she giving me that? I furrow my eyebrows to try to remember. I look down and spot the paper. Oh yeah, I pointed to what I would like to have at that moment.

I accept the stuffed animal. It’s a lynx. She has big, like really big, eyes and they look like they change colour when the light hits them from different angles. The colours of the rainbow. She’s my only stuffed animal. I haven’t ever really been a fan of stuffed animals, but something about Linx just made me love her the moment I laid my eyes on her. Yes, I named her Linx. Deal with it. Creativity is not my department. At least not creativity involving names.

“How you feeling now? Think you can sign?” I look at my hands. They’re not shaking badly anymore, so I try to sign a single _‘yes’_. I then nod to her, giving her a hint of a smile. And she returns it tenfold. “Awesome. Do you want me to stay with you tonight? And before you ask; no. You wouldn’t be bothering me at all. I would do anything for you Vee. You know that!” she says, sounding stern, but stern in a soft way.

I chuckle soundlessly, feeling my anxiety ebb away. _‘I don’t think I’m going to have another panic attack at the moment, so I’m feeling better. Not good or great, but better.’_ I have to stop after that. Signing that much after an attack can take the strength out of you. When I catch my breath again, I continue to sign. _‘And I would like it if you would stay with me.’_

She nods, still smiling, though it’s softened. “I think it would be best for us to go to your bed and not staying here on the floor. Can you stand, or would you like me to pick you up and carry you to bed? 1 or 2?” she asks. I think about it for a bit. My legs feel like boiled spaghetti, so I think it would be a bad idea for me to try and walk; even with Anastacia’s help. I hold up two fingers. She nods.

Before she moves to pick me up, she closes the box and pushes it aside. Making sure it’s out of my sight so that I won’t even be able to see it even in my peripheral view. Pretty sure she knows that’s what caused the attack in the first place.

Before I know it, Ann and I are cuddled up on my bed at midnight. Wait, midnight? It’s already midnight? Wait, ‘already’? I mean ‘only’. I don’t know, my inner clock is broken from my many late nights. Insomnia’s a bitch.

“Goodnight, Vee. I love you more than you will ever believe. It’s always gonna be the two of us, no matter what. I’ll never leave you,” she whispers in my ear. Don’t make promises you can’t keep sis. Sooner or later, you’ll leave me too. It’s only a matter of time. You’ll get tired of having to put up with my shit and having to pull me out of panic attacks over stupid things. Just wait and see. You will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any notes on the panic attack Virgil has, and think it was totally wrongly written, then please let me know. It's my first time writing a panic attack. I have never had one myself, but I tried to research the best I could about them, how they felt, and how to help a person through them.
> 
> What was in the box, you ask? Well, stay tuned to find out. It might be a while, but Virgil will get the courage to open it up. Eventually.


	2. Memories and Moving Trucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil has a nasty flashback induced nightmare and Anastacia goes into protective mode. The moving truck arrives and off we go to America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, would you look at that? It's my 18th birthday! What better way to celebrate than to give you guys a new chapter? Oh yeah, and hey again. I had a panic attack last Saturday. At first, I thought it was my first one, but thinking about it, it's happened to me before, just this time I could put into words what it was. Alright, enough about me. 
> 
> This starts out pretty dark/angsty, so you are warned.
> 
> TW: Flashback, nightmare, past suicide, negative thinking, self-depreciation, anxiety, hyperventilation, sleeping with a binder on. Think that was it. If I missed any, please do not hesitate to let me know in the comments. 
> 
> Please take care of yourselves.

_Knock knock knock. Who’s knocking on my door? “Who’s there?” I ask. Wait, I spoke. Without any trouble. That’s weird._

_“It’s me, honey. Can I come in? Anastacia told me some boys at school were picking on you for your binder. I would just like to talk to you a bit if that’s alright?” Who is that? They sound familiar. Sound just like her. But that’s not possible. And where’s Ann anyway? _

_“You sure?” I hear myself saying. “You really want to see your child who can’t even figure out what gender they are?” I continue. Not even a hint of sarcasm in my voice. _

_“I’m positive, honey. I love you more than you’ll ever know. I don’t care what gender you are. You are my child. I’ll love you no matter what,” she says softly. I resign myself to my fate. Unconditional love. “Can I?”_

_I sigh. “Sure.” The door opens to reveal my mother. How is that possible? Was her dying maybe just a dream? Well, a nightmare more like._

_I am sitting at my drawing desk when she enters. Strange. I thought I was on my bed. Mother crouches down beside me and looks me seriously in the eyes. I wanna look away, or at least down, but she’s locked me in my place with her gaze. “You have to come tell me these things, Virgil. This is the third time this week I’ve had to hear it from your sister. I know it might feel embarrassing, but I will not love you any less. It’s not something that should be taken lightly. And what they’re saying to you? They have no respect. And it’s not true in the slightest. You are perfect, just the way you are.”_

_I feel tears well up in my eyes. Before I know it, I launch myself at Mother, hugging her tightly. “I know, Mother. And I’m so sorry. Sorry that I’m such a mess. I just- I just can’t help it. It hurts. It hurts so bad. I just want it to end,” I sniffle. Mother stiffens. I look up. “Mother?”_

_“No, you don’t. Because then you’ll end up like me.” What? What does she mean? “You deserve the happy ending I didn’t get to have.” She pulls away. I freeze. She has blood running down her mouth. Eyes lifeless. Her hair’s a mess. And around her neck! Rope marks! I try to move away, but she grips my wrists. “Look at me, Virgil! Is this what you want? Do you want to disappoint me and step into my footsteps?! Then I’ll happily indulge you!” Her tone is harsh now. She’s screaming. Or is it me? I don’t know anymore. I want to get away from here, but I can’t! I’m frozen in place! _

_“Mother, please. You’re hurting me!” I beg. “I- I’m sorry, okay? Just, please! It really hurts!”_

_I’m suddenly in her old room. In the corner. Hidden away. Mother is in the middle of the room. I try to speak, but suddenly can’t again. Pill bottles are laying on the floor. Anti-depressants and the like. A rope is hanging from the ceiling, right above a chair. Mother stands up on the chair and puts the rope around her neck. I know what she’s about to do. I saw her the first time. I want to stop her, let her know I’m here, but I can’t move. I’m frozen in place. Please, Mother. Don’t do it! I need you! Please! _

_She jumps off the chair. All I can do is sit there and watch in horror. Once she’s stopped moving, and all is quiet, the door opens and reveals my father. He doesn’t look at Mother. He looks at me. “You could’ve stopped her. If you had just been normal, none of this would’ve ever happened. You are not my child!” he says, before closing the door again, leaving me alone with Mother’s lifeless body hanging from the ceiling. _

I gasp as I sit up, almost drowning in sweat. It’s not the first time I’ve had that nightmare, but this time was so much worse than it has ever been. I can’t breathe. Great. It’s pitch black as well, so that doesn’t help, either. What do I do? What do I do?

Anastacia. Anastacia’ll know! She always does. But where is she? I’ll blackout from lack of air before I find her.

AAHHH! Something moved beside me! What is that? What’s going on? Am I still dreaming? I can’t be. Can I?

“Virge?” someone slurs. It sounds like Mother! That means I’m still dreaming. No, please. I wanna wake up! I don’t wanna relive it again!

Oh, I’m hyperventilating. That’s not good. What did Ann say to do when I’m hyperventilating? I can’t remember! Please!

“Wow, Virgil! It’s me, Anastacia. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay. Feel my breathing, please. I’m putting your hand on my chest. Try and match my breathing, okay?”

Anastacia? Oh, it’s Anastacia. Oh yeah, that’s right. We went to bed together in my bed. I had a panic attack last night.

I can feel her hand on mine. She’s leading it to her chest, just like she said. Her heartbeat is so calm. What I wouldn’t give to be able to control my heartbeat like her. I’m so lucky to have her as my sister.

I try my best to match her breathing but fails many times. After what feels like hours, I finally get control over my breathing again. I look at the clock. 4.48 am. Great. Got like, maybe four hours of sleep, if we consider that my attacks usually last a few hours, depending on what they are about and what triggered me. Not going to be able to sleep any more.

“Hey,” Ann says, nudging my shoulder with hers. “It was just a dream. And I’m right here, should you need me again. Think you can go back to sleep?” she asks after a moment's hesitation. I shake my head ‘no’. “Okay, how about we watch some Steven Universe then?”

A distraction. Classic move. I nod. Soon enough we’re laying down on my bed again watching Steven Universe on Ann’s phone.

Before I know it, it’s 8 am. Father knocks on my door. “Hey, kiddo. Time to get up. The truck will be here in thirty minutes.”

Ann looks at me, silently asking if she can answer for me. I nod. “We’ll be ready by then, Father. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, you’re in there Anastacia? Well, good. We’ll be leaving shortly after the truck. We don’t have to worry about furniture. Our new house in Florida already has furniture, so we won't have to pay extra for moving ours. And I probably already told you kiddos…” he trails off.

Ann and I share an amused look before we hear him walk away.

“Well, you heard Father. Time to get up and do something with the day,” she says, playfully batting my arm.

I shove her right back. Two can play this game. I winch slightly. Shit, I forgot to take off my binder! It hurts like hell!

Aaand, of course, Ann sees it. “Virgil? What’s wrong?” She looks me up and down. Then realisation seems to dawn on her. “You’re still wearing your binder! I thought you had taken it off after dinner! You know it’s not healthy sleeping with your binder on!”

_‘I know, I know! I forgot, alright? Sheez, you’re starting to sound like Mother!’_ I sign. Then freeze once I realise what I actually said. And then crumble into a little ball of pure agony. I scramble to apologise. _‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it! I- please don’t hate me! I’m sorry.’_ My signing is fast, and my breathing is starting to pick up again. Bollocks!

“No, no, it’s alright, Virgil. And nothing you could do would ever make me hate you! Please breathe with me. That’s it, you’re doing great!” she interrupts my rambling apology. She starts breathing the 4-7-8 exercise exaggeratingly, and I follow, getting control over my breathing again.

“Let’s get ready, kay? We just need to get your art stuff and fidget cube packed in a bag and get the moving box closed, and we’re good to go.” She gets up and starts shuffling around the room.

I slowly start to follow, eyeing Mother’s box warily, and find a bag. I tap Ann’s shoulder to get her attention and show her the bag with a small smile.

“Great. Now, here are your pencils and sketchbook. I can’t find your fidget cube, though. And it might be a good idea if you get your headphones as well.” I hold the bag open as she talks. She puts the pencils and my sketchbook in it, but when she mentions my fidget cube, I tense up a little. “What is it, Vee?”

I put the bag on the floor. Well, I guess I should tell her what a mess of a person her twin brother really is. _‘My fidget cube fell under my bed, and when I went to get it…’_ I have to stop for a minute to collect myself. _‘When I went to get it, I found that box,’ _I point at it, _‘and I might’ve sort of opened it. And sent myself into a panic attack in the process.’_ I add sheepishly.

She gives me a look of sympathy before moving to hug me. That’s nice. This is nice. Hugging her. Oh, she gives me a light kiss in my hair. That’s actually comforting. Then it’s over. She moves back but doesn’t quite let go of me. “How about I go and get it, and you can find your headphones? Sound like a plan?” I nod.

She then lets go of me and ventures over to my bed. I set out to find my headphones, trying not to think about what she might think about me and the box. Soon enough, she gives me my fidget cube, and I show her my headphones. Both end up in the bag. The moving box is closed, so we’re all done. Except for one thing.

“Off with it. Now. I’ll help.” My binder. I groan. Right. Forgot about that. Again. And she won't let me go anywhere until I’m no longer in pain. So that’s how I find myself being undressed by my twin sister. Oh, shut up! Not like that! We’ve done this a million times, her helping me with my binder.

“You have to be more careful, Vee. You could seriously hurt yourself with this thing. Aaand, there!” she exclaims when she finally managed to get it off me. I love wearing a binder, but it is _so difficult_ to get it off most of the time. She throws a t-shirt at me. “Catch. And put on your hoodie as well.”

I do as she says. When she is in protective mode, you best do what she tells you to.

_Knock knock knock._

I flinch. Three knocks. Just like in my nightmare! Yeah, if you couldn’t tell, I’m a little jumpy right now and have excessive anxiety to burn of. Ann notices, of course. “I’ll get it,” she says before moving to my door. Luckily, it’s the front door someone’s knocking at, not mine. Annoyed, I put on my hoodie and follow.

“Hello there, young lady. Is your father home?” someone asks. A male voice I’ve never heard before. Instantly my anxiety causes me to be on high alert. Bloody calm down! It’s probably just the movers that are coming for the boxes. Like Father said. Still, I keep out of sight.

“Yeah, I’ll go get him. There are some boxes in the living room if you could load them into your truck?” Ann says. It is the movers. Phew. Ann passes me and gives my shoulder a soft squeeze, and mouths ‘keep breathing’ to me, before getting Father.

I do as she says. Deep breath before slowly going into the living room to the movers. Just to get a look at them, if we should be wary of them or not, and to get one last look at the bare living room in the house I grew up in. My heart starts to ache at that thought. I’ll never see this place ever again.

“Hey there, kid.” I nearly jump out of my skin at the voice. Haven’t that guy learnt never to startle an anxious teen? Right. He doesn’t know me. Doesn’t know I have anxiety. And it was also kinda my fault he surprised me as severely as he did; I was stuck in my mind and that. He sounds nice, though. The guy winches at my flinch. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Yeah, mate. There’s also absolutely no reason to be scared of him. Or me, for that matter,” the other man chuckles. I send a small smile their way, just to acknowledge that it was alright. He beams at me, clearly proud of himself. “I’m Phil, by the way. That’s Dan,” he says, pointing to his partner. He looks at me like he’s expecting me to tell him my name now.

I don’t respond. Just stare. Chances are they don’t know sign language, and I’m not up to talking right now, not even to tell them my name; and I’m most definitely not up for a game of charades. So what do I do? Nod at the two movers, Dan and Phil. God, I must look so pathetic right now.

They continue with whatever they were doing before, just like that. What? They seem to have just accepted that I didn’t give them my name. Well, that’s new. Aaand cue awkward silence with me just standing in the doorway staring, fiddling with my hoodie sleeves. At least they didn’t press on with the name thing. They seem really nice.

“Sorry for taking so long; had to make breakfast for these two with nothing in the fridge.” Father to the rescue! Thank goodness. He’s smiling down to me, a look of pity in his eyes. “Anastacia’s in the kitchen, Virgil. You go ahead and join your sister, and I’ll talk with these gentlemen in the meantime.” I nod.

As I walk away, I hear Father start up a conversation with the movers. I think I hear him say my name. Probably telling them, I’m shy and have anxiety or something like that. Which is true, mind you, it’s just annoying that it has to be adverted like that.

“Hey, Vee. How you feeling?” Ann asks as she sees me entering the kitchen. Have I mentioned how much I love my sister? Because I really love her. I don’t think I would’ve survived the past three months without her. She’s not like dad. He doesn’t know how to really help, and he sends pitying looks and whatnot. Not what I need. Ann’s different. She knows what she’s doing. She doesn’t ever pity me. She hates it just as much as I do. Oh yeah, she has anxiety too, only not as bad as me. So she knows what she’s doing.

_‘I’m alright, I think. __What’s for breakfast?’_ I sign. I already know what, but I wanna be sure.

“Take a wild guess,” she smirks.

_‘Hmmm, it wouldn’t happen to be oatmeal, would it?’_

“Ding ding ding! And we have a winner, folks. Virgil Blake! Give him a hand, everybody,” she laughs. We’ve been getting oatmeal for breakfast the past few weeks. I laugh with her, though mine is soundless. So basically, just puffs of air with an accompanying smile. “But seriously though, we’re gonna be okay. America’s school system isn’t that different from England’s. And I’m sure folks in Gainesville, Florida are nice.”

Serious tone. This is the first time she’s voiced these concerns. I’ve always known they were there, ever since Father announced we were moving to America, but she’s never mentioned anything. I could tell they were there, though I don’t think she knows if you know what I mean.

_‘I hope so, though we won’t be getting the same schedule. Which means we won’t always be together in school. And I can take care of myself,’_ I sign to her, hoping she’ll believe me. She looks at me with a resigned look as I sit down after grabbing a recyclable plastic breakfast bowl and. “I know. But that doesn’t mean I can’t worry about my twin brother; wanting to protect him from potential bullies.” She gives a small smile, pouring oatmeal into my bowl. “And knowing he will do the very same thing.”

“Alright kiddos,” Father interrupts. “Dan and Phil are getting the boxes moved to their truck. We just give the word when we’re ready to say goodbye to the house.”And so, an hour or so later, we’re sitting in the car on our way to the airport. The moving truck behind us as well as all the memories. Goodbye Mother. I’m just glad we remembered to bye pills for me for the plane ride. Anastacia didn’t let me put on another binder though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you got through it. I've never experienced anything that would warrent flashback induced nightmares, so I might have been a bit off with how it works. 
> 
> Please kudos and comment, telling me what you thought, what could have been better, just to say hi, or keysmashes. Don't be shy. I'll live for them.


	3. Whatever Doesn’t Kill You…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the move out of the way, all that's left is school. Things don't go Virgil's way, however. He and Anastacia do get a new friend, but also an enemy. Why does he have to be different from everybody?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. Long time no see? I don't really have an excuse for posting this late. Well, maybe I do. I wanted to write what I'd been planning, but I had to get there somehow, and that was the boring part aka this chapter. I know, I wanted to write the interesting part, but we need this. And I've been writing non-stop for a few hours now. I WANTED to get this out to you before the new year/decade. So, it's kinda sucky. All I can say is that you need to take note of some of the characters introduced in this chapter. They might be important. Not gonna say who, though ;)
> 
> Chapter warnings: Bullying, a bit of swearing, spiralling of thought, anxiety.

Well. It’s bigger than I thought it would be. With the limited income we get from Father’s job, I didn’t think we would get this big of a house for that little money. Maybe more people are moving away from rather than are moving to Gainesville. I don’t know. I have no idea how stuff like that work.

“Alright, kiddos. Time to conquer our new home.” Father’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. Right. This is where we live now.

Ann gives my hand a small squeeze and leads me inside. She knows I don’t like change, so she takes the lead and guides me into our new home.

The day goes by fast. We get our stuff moved into the house, choose rooms, boxes everywhere by the end of it.

Father’s on the phone at night. It’s close to the summer break, so I’m imagining he’s talking to someone about school. I’m not sure if I’m ready to go back yet. I really hope we can keep the same arrangements. That would be nice. He already said Ann wasn’t going to go back to school for the rest of the school year since it’s so close to the break.

Speaking of, Anastacia’s in her own room, no doubt decorating it with all her quotes and the drawings from me as well as her own. And the paintings we worked on together. And the ones with Mother. God, I miss her.

Summer goes by mostly uneventful. I don’t come out of my room often. The box I found in my old room I hid away. Under my bed. How ironic. I get back to drawing, Father takes Ann and me to an animal shelter. He wants to get me a support animal since I’m getting panic attacks whenever I’m alone. We end up adopting an albino German Shepherd. She’s very young. The girl who was working at the time said she was waiting for the right owner to name her. I named her Maia. Maia seems to really like her name because she responds every time I say it.

Summer’s ending. I don’t know what Father has found out about school. I’m just cuddled up with Maia on my bed, scrolling through Tumblr. Someone knocks at my door. From Maia’s reaction, it’s Anastacia. She just looked over at the door and laid back down again. Had it been Father, she would’ve moved to my side. It’s astounding how good she is discerning who is knocking at my door.

And sure enough, Anastacia comes in. “Hey.” She gives a small wave. “Father, he wanted me to come get you. I don’t know why, but he sounded serious.” She pauses slightly and looks around my room. “You really need to get the last boxes unpacked. This is not healthy.”

“I-I’ll be ri-right down.” I still don’t talk much, but Maia’s helping. I’m talking more than before the move. Ann looks really happy. She’s always delighted whenever I try and speak. I know she won't pressure me into it, and for I’m grateful. Father, on the other hand… I don’t know. I don’t think he has this whole ‘single parent’ thing figured out yet. I don’t think I have, either.

I look up to see that she’s gone again. I was lost in my thoughts again. Maia starts nuzzling my cheek as if sensing my thoughts. I’m happy I got her. She’s amazing. And she’s jumped off my bed, looking towards the door. Right. Father wanted me downstairs.

I look around the living room when I get there, Maia in my heels. “Y-yeah?” I ask as I spot Father sitting at the table. Something’s off with his demeanour. He looks up as I get closer.

“Hey, sport. How, uh, how’s it going?” he tries with false cheer. I shoot him the most unimpressed look I can. He sinks back into his chair and sighs. “Look, this is not something you’ll like very much, so please sit down, Virgil.” Okay, what’s going on? I’m starting to freak out. Maia nuzzles my leg, whimpering a bit. I scratch her behind the left ear, calming down at the action.

“Father, you’re starting to freak me out. What’s going on?” Ann voices the question for me. Another deep sigh from him. He shifts and produces some papers I hadn’t noticed.

“It’s about school. I talked with the administrator or whatever. We can’t make the same arrangements. You either go to school or not at all. They just don’t have the funds to make it happen. I’m sorry. We’ll go shopping for school supplies for you guys tomorrow. It’s last-minute, but it’s all we can do. I’m really sorry. I’ve spoken with them about, uhm, about you not talking much, Virgil. They say it’s alright. They’ll pass it along to your teachers,” Father finishes. Great. And here I went and thought today would be a good day.

Anastacia is by my side immediately. She starts massaging my shoulders at the tension that’s beginning to build. She’s the best. And Maia is at my feet, creating a warm and grounding sensation. How did I get this lucky?

“Well, when we get our schedules, well make sure to stick together as much as possible!” Ann says, fiercely. And I believe her. She’ll do anything to protect me, as I will her.

The last of the summer break goes by with a blur, and suddenly we’ve reached our first day as seniors at Gainesville High School. We are headed to the Principle’s office to get our schedules and a school guide. I’m so freaking scared. What will the Principle think of me? What will the guide? I’m basically mute at this point in my life, and I’m only 16! They’re gonna think I’m a joke and laugh at how stupid I am! And- oh God! I have to share classrooms with a bunch of teenage strangers! Who _will_ judge me for not talking at all! Oh, God, I’m sweating! Will they notice I’m wearing a binder? No, they can’t. My hoodie’s too big for them to see. But what if they demand I take my hoodie off? Then they’ll know. I don’t like this, I wanna go home to Maia and curl up with her and never leave the house again!

“…il? Virgil, hey, look at me. Please? Virgil!” I’m thrown out of my thoughts by someone circling their finger in my palm. Who? Oh yeah, Anastacia. “There you are, Vee. It’s going to be okay. I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. But we need to have a clear head, kay?” Anastacia speaks softly. We’re standing in front of a door. Must be the Principle’s office. ‘T. Sanders’, it says. I nod. That’s all I can really do at this point. I certainly don’t trust my voice to actually hold. My fingers are shaking too much to sign, so that’s a no-go, too.

Ann knocks on the door. Three times, softly. We hear a muffled “Come in,” and we enter. I’m just looking at the floor, letting Ann guide me to the chairs we end up sitting in.

“Anastacia and Virgil Blake, I presume?” a man speaks up. We both nod. He sounds nice, so I chance a glance at the man. He looks to be in his mid-to-late thirties. He has a very kind smile. That’s one of the first things I can tell about him. “My name is Thomas Sanders. I’m the Principle here at Gainesville High School. Now, you’re here for your schedules. I spoke briefly with your father at the end of the break. Said he wanted for you two to have schedules that somewhat corresponded to one another. I’ve also let the teachers know about you, Virgil. I know anxiety can be tough, and we’re trying to be all-inclusive.” He hands us our schedules while he’s talking. He has such a pleasant and calming voice. He reminds me of… no. not going down that road today.

The door opens behind us with no warning. I literally jump out of my seat like the scaredy-cat I am. Ann lays a hand on my shoulder and guides me back into my chair. “Whoops, sorry. Didn’t think you’d already be here,” a sheepish voice says from the doorway. I look up and see someone our age. They are wearing all black clothes. Long-sleeved crop top with a view of the shoulders. Skinny jeans which aren’t too tight. Combat boots with yellow laces. And a bowler hat? A very stylish one, with a silver band around it. It doesn’t make them look out of place, nor does it throw off their outfit, but still. A bowler hat. Who wears bowler hats in school?

“Ah, still haven’t learnt to know, I see?” Mr Sanders tells the newcomer. “Anastacia, Virgil, this is Nini Lupa. Your student guide. She’ll show you around the school and take you to your first class of the day.” The other student, Nini Lupa, winks at us and gives a two-finger salute. “If there’s anything, just go to her. “Have a great first day here,” he smiles at us as we follow Nini out the door.

“Sorry about the dramatic entrance. I really thought you wouldn’t be here yet. Anyway, let’s get the run of the place, shall we?” Nini says, clapping her hands together once as she speaks. The bell hasn’t rung yet, so there’s still a lot of students in the halls. They’re all looking at us. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin.

She’s done with the tour just as the bell rings the second time. “If there’s anything else, here’s my number. Just text me,” she smiles at us, as she writes down her number on a small notebook she produced out of nowhere. She hands each of us a little piece of paper. “And this is your first period of the day is at. Good luck, guys. And I’m serious. If there’s anything at all, hit me up. I really won't mind.” She waves us off and leaves to go to her own class.

“She’s certainly an interesting one,” Ann says. We open the door and see that the classroom is already filled. I feel tiny right now. There’s like, at least more than 20 people in here. I can’t remember when the last time I was surrounded by this many people was. And all of them are staring at us like they’ve never seen another person before. Oh yeah, and they are all like, 17 or 18 years old. Ann and I skipped a grade a while back, so we’re always the youngest.

“Ah, glad you could make it!” the teacher says. “I’m your Psychology teacher, Miss Singh. Everybody, these are our new students, Anastacia and Virgil Blake. All the way from England. Do try to be nice, for once,” she says, earning a chuckle out of the other students. “Please take a seat next to Emile and Qikkie. Raise your hands.” Two students raise their hands and Ann and I walk over to sit next to them. It’s in front of the class. I won’t miss a thing like this, and I won’t have to worry about any strange looks I know I’ll receive. I’m just glad Miss Singh didn’t make us tell about ourselves.

Miss Singh is much different from any teacher I’ve had in the past, so it’s a fascinating lesson, to say the least. The bell rings, and we pack our stuff together. Emile and Qikkie both say hi to us before heading to their next lesson of the day. As do we.

Ann and I don’t share a lot of classes today, and I hate it. There are some faces I end up seeing more than once during the day, though. One being Nini Lupa. Turns out, she also skipped a class and is really smart. Another person I keep seeing is a boy I think is called Jake. Something about him is off-setting. He seems like the type of person you’d want to avoid, so that’s what I’m going to do.

The last lesson before lunch is History. Great. I know nothing about it. Give me art any day. The teacher, Mr Anderson, seems nice. And it also seems like he wasn’t told about my, uh, mental state. He asked me a question, and I can’t answer it. Like, I actually know the answer, but I can verbally answer it. Luckily, I share this class with Nini. She’s been nothing but kind and helpful. “I’m sorry, Mr Anderson, but didn’t Principle Sanders tell you?”

“Tell me what, miss Lupa?” Mr Anderson looks at her quizzically. He doesn’t know. Great. He actually doesn’t know.

Nini looks at me for my permission to tell him. It’s going to be in front of the entire class, but I still nod to her that she can.

“Virgil doesn’t talk much due to his anxiety. It causes him to not be able to speak a lot of times. I thought Principle Sanders told every teacher.” Mr Anderson look surprised at first, but it soon changes to understanding.

“Oh, I’m really sorry about that then, Virgil. Could you perhaps write down the answer instead? You look like you know it,” he asks. He’s given me a way out, though. I can decline if I want to. I end up writing it on a piece of paper and give it Nini. She reads it aloud, and Mr Anderson looks impressed. Apparently, that was a hard question not many actually knew the answer to.

Rest of class proceeds with tension. Not from Mr Anderson, but from the other students. I get a lot of weird glances. I don’t look at the others directly, but I know. I’m trying so hard not to have a panic attack. How would that look? Oh, the new boy can’t talk. He’s probably doing it for attention. And now he’s having a panic attack in the middle of class. Such an attention whore.

The bell rings. It’s time for lunch. I think. Still haven’t figured the American school system out. Nini says her goodbyes to me, she has to go to the library to meet up with a friend of hers that need help. I go outside to get some air. Father said to call if I became too much for me, and I’m seriously beginning to consider doing so.

I shoot a text Ann’s way to tell her I’m outside. I sigh and find some shade. Everybody in the school probably knows I’m a freak now. High schools are infamous for being ground zero for gossip after all. As long as they think I’m contagious or something, like the students back home, they’ll leave me alone. “Hey, freak!” Or not.

I look over minutely and spot that Jake guy. Great. The off-putting dude. He was in Mr Anderson’s class. Everyone seems to hurry out of his way. Welp, I’m doomed, and it’s only my first day here. This is how I go. Finally, someone decided to put me out of my misery.

“Hey, I’m talking to you! Just because you can’t speak, doesn’t mean you get to ignore you superiors!” he hisses out at me. Oh, so that’s how it goes? I’m suddenly the lowest of the low just because I can’t speak? That makes me stupid, somehow? I steel my face and put on a bold look. I turn to him and that quickly crumbles when I actually get a good look at the guy. He’s huge. I’m nothing compared to him. I’m just the new scrawny kid you get to throw around like a ragdoll.

I’m standing underneath a tree, but I take a step forward and out into the sun to meet him head-on. Show him I’m not scared of him, even though I’m terrified. Doesn’t look like I’m getting any help from the surrounding students. I’m all alone against a giant.

“Or maybe you can talk and you just pretend so you don’t have to say anything in class. Nah, I bet an emo like you aren’t that smart.” He’s going for my looks now. This is fine. I can handle it. I just gotta wait until Ann gets here and then it’s two against one. I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

And before I know it, I’m on the ground. My head knocks against the tree, and it hurts like all hell! He must’ve pushed me or something. I don’t really recall. All I can focus on is the pain in the back of my head.

“You’re fucking weak. A weak freak! No one’s going to help you. You know that, right? They don’t dare go against me, and they couldn’t care less about you!” he laughs. I can’t help but let out a tiny whimper because it’s true. I can see it on their faces. They won’t help. I don’t know what going to happen now. I just wanna go home and never leave again. I-

“OI! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments feed my soul. No pressure to leave a comment, though it would be nice to get a bit of feedback. Also, let me know if I missed any warnings.
> 
> Happy New Year!!! See you next year, guys, gals, and non-binary pals!!
> 
> Love you, my lovelies!! <3


	4. #TwinSquad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is very surprised at how strangers are coming to his rescue from the school bully, Jake Simons. He makes some new friends like that, as well as getting very confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't seen you guys since last year *snickers* but that's kinda my fault. I've been busy with school, agonising over grades and stuff.
> 
> I've been really into this chapter, as I had many notes as to how it was supposed to go from the beginning. And it did not disappoint! There are a few places where I really enjoyed writing it and may have gotten carried away and had too much fun... you'll be able to find them, I'm sure.

“OI! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

That sounds like… Anastacia comes into my vision, stands in front of me, guarding me. “I don’t give a rat’s arse about who you think you are! Nobody, and I repeat, NOBODY! Does that to my brother!” Anyone who doesn’t know her, everybody here except me, wouldn’t know that inside her mind, she’s screaming at herself to grab me and run. The little waver in her voice gave it away. But I’m so lucky to have her. She sets her own anxiety to the side to help me.

“What?” Jake drawls out that word. “We were just having a bit of fun. Ain’t that right, freak?” He looks pointedly at me. And earns a shove from Ann.

“Don’t you _dare_ call my brother a freak,” she says, voice dangerously low. Oh-uh. I haven’t heard her use that voice since she beat the crap out of the only bully at our last school. He was degrading me for being trans, so he kinda had it coming. But still, Anastacia can be pretty scary when she’s in protective mode.

“Oh, I’m sooo scared. What’re you gonna do, British? Throw a teabag after me?” he mocks. Big mistake on his part, if you ask me.

“Did you just-” Oh, Ann is seething now. I can tell. To hell with anxiety, when you’ve pissed her off, you’re dead.

I look around the yard and, oh no! There are so many people! I need to get away from here! I’m on the verge of a panic attack, I can feel it! Why couldn’t I just stay at home and never see the sun again? Ann’s talking, I think. Maybe even fighting that Jake guy. At least verbally. I can’t hear them. I can’t hear anything! Wait, I can hear my heart. That’s good. Right? Oh god, I’m going to have a panic attack on the first day back to school in front of a bunch of strangers! I can’t- I can’t-

“What’s going on here, Jake?”

Who was that? Their voice sounds really calculated. But also kinda cold. Their voice broke through my panicked thoughts, though. Like Mother’s. Her voice was able to break through my thoughts. I’ve only heard their voice, but I think it’s someone I can trust. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s all a haze right now. I should probably open my eyes. Yeah, I’m gonna do that. Wait, I closed my eyes? When did that happen?

Anastacia is standing protectively in front of me, like a knight protecting their most dearest with a shield from a firebreathing dragon. No! Not thinking about that! In front of her, two other students are standing face to face with Jake. They’re talking with him. What are they saying? I try and focus on them.

“… ould leave.” The voice from earlier.

“Yeah, right. Like I’m going to. Yo, Marco! Dillan!” That’s Jake. At his shout, two other students run over to his side. “The nerds wanna fight,” Jake laughs.

“We’d rather it didn’t come to that. However, I will indulge you if you want.” This is a new voice. They sound quite dramatic. It’s one of the two who came over. They are defending me? Why? They don’t know me. I don’t know them.

I can see their back. One of the two is wearing what looks like a dark blue polo. The other is wearing a dark red jacket with a crown on. Nothing too boisterous, but still. Bold.

“Can’t you count, Garcia? It’s three against two. British is obviously too busy with her weak-ass brother,” Jake smirks.

“Numbers don’t matter in situations such as this, may I remind you. Anyone with even just a slight comprehension of hand-to-hand combat will tell you that.” The first voice.

“Indeed, _Simons_, we don’t need to be any more to take you fiends down.” Red Jacket does what I assume is supposed to be a dramatic pose. Pretty sure the second voice belongs to them.

“Pfft, you really think your geek can handle being in a fight, Garcia? He would lose instantly.” Jake and his goons laugh. “He’s too scrawny! If I even just gently punch him, he’d break!” Jakes goons laughed even harder at that. Well, that really wasn’t fair! I really wanna help them, but I can’t do a fucking thing right now! It’s like I’m paralysed!

“You would actually be surprised at what Logan can do, Jake.” A new voice, sounding a bit more female. Well, it looks like they are here to help Polo Shirt and Red Jacket. “And how many punches he can take without breaking a sweat or slowing down in the slightest.”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Quick E coming the weaklings to the resue?” Jake taunts. I think it’s supposed to be a play at their name or something.

“Har har, real mature, _Jackie_.” Jake sneers at the name. The newcomer _(gosh, there’s so many strangers now, I can’t breathe)_ only smile at Jake innocently. “You know it’s Qikkie. Q-I-K-K-I-E,” they spell out. “Qikkie. Might look weird, but it’s just pronounced ‘Kikki’.” Oh, their smile is dangerous now. They kinda remind me of Ann…

“Virgil, breathe.” Who said that?! I frantically look around. Who the hell sa- oh. Anastacia. She’s right next to me now. She’s telling me to breathe. Am I not breathing? I inhale sharply. Oh, guess I wasn’t.

She continues whispering soft nothings into my ear. I tune them out in favour of focusing on the conversation in front of us. Red Jacket is standing slightly in front of Polo Shirt, ready to defend. I must’ve missed something.

“Oh, go put a sock in it, Jake,” Red Jacket says. Jake just laughs. As do his goons.

“Hey! Attention here, hothead!” the newcomer, Qikkie, says, snapping their fingers. Nice bracelet. Why does it say ‘She/Her’ on it? “Do you really wanna turn your back on me? After what happened last year?” Jake visibly freezes. Qikkie just smiles wickedly. Wonder what happened?

“Fine. You losers win this round,” Jake grumbles, signalling to his goons to follow him as he leaves.

“You just conceded victory to us, so we are in fact the winners. Not losers,” Polo Shirt says, sounding puzzled.

Qikkie turns to Ann and me. “Sorry about him. Jake wasn’t taught any manners at all at home. He’s just a Neanderthal. Just ignore him and his brainless gorillas,” Qikkie smiles at us and offers a hand. The other two are still there, but it seems like they’re sending ordering looks to the other students because they start to leave fast.

Ann takes their offered hand after I nod an okay at her. She then gently lifts me up with both hands. Damn it! I’m wobbling a bit. My legs aren’t steady. Haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday and that push just took more of my remaining energy. I really need to eat better.

I quickly gain my balance and start signing. _‘Thanks, sis. Uhm, could you translate this next part?’_ I hesitantly ask.

“Of course! Go ahead,” she says, earning a few confused looks from the others with us. Polo Shirt and Red Jacket came to stand next to Qikkie.

_‘You know, it’s really offensive to Neanderthals to call him that. They were obviously much more intelligent than Jake is.’_ I sign, allowing a tiny smirk to be visible on my face. Ann starts giggling a lot and has to catch her breath. Polo Shirt starts chuckling a bit as well, making Qikkie and Red Jacket look at them like they’d lost their mind. Maybe they didn’t laugh much?

Ann seems to have caught her breath again. “Huh, sorry. Right, translation. Virgil said, and I quote: You know, it’s really offensive to Neanderthals to call him that. They were obviously much more intelligent than Jake is.” And the others start laughing. Well, Polo Shirt is still chuckling a bit.

Qikkie’s laugh is light and not really that loud. Red Jacket’s laughter, however… it’s loud and boisterous and like music. Wait, what? Nonono, get it together Virgil! If you start these thoughts you’re only gonna start blushing and- and I’m blushing. Great. I look down a bit, trying to hide behind my bangs. Please don’t notice, please don’t notice, please don’t notice!

They finally start to laugh off. And Red Jacket looks at me. Oh, no! Shit! They’re smiling! At me! What do I do?! Can’t I just sink into the ground or something?!

“I like the way you think, Virgil, was it?” they ask. All I can do is stand there and look really dumb. I just nod. I’m pretty sure no one seems aware of my internal conflict. “I’m Roman. Roman Garcia. He/him.” Red Jacket, _Roman_, says, extending his hand but backtracks and scratches his neck instead. At least he could see I’d rather not touch any stranger at the moment.

Polo Shirt collects himself and gives a tiny attention-grabbing cough. “My name is Logan Connors. I, as well as Roman, use he/him pronouns. And we’re glad to be of assistance to the both of you,” he says and gives a curt nod. Yup. He’s the formal type. He even wears a necktie. Who even does that in a school that has no uniforms?

“You probably already caught my name,” Qikkie chuckles. “But if you forgot it already, it’s Qikkie. Picani. My name’s spelt really weird, but it’s just pronounced ‘Kiki’,” they smile. They get a look from Logan that I have no idea what means. “Oh, yeah! And I use she/her pronouns for today. I’m a demigirl, or as I like to call it: demifemale, so you can see my pronouns on my bracelet here.” She lifts her hand with the bracelet I saw earlier. So that’s why it says she/her. Cool. “When I’m wearing the ‘they/them’ pendants, you can just call me Q. You don’t have to, obviously, but it would be nice.”

“That’s really cool! I’m Anastacia, uhh, Blake,” Ann hesitantly adds. Most likely because they also shared their last names. Qikkie seems to light up at Ann’s comment about Qikkie’s bracelet. “I use she/her as well. And this is Virgil,” she gestures to me. “My brother. He/him.” I give a small wave at the introduction. And then the awkwardness starts. No one seems to know what to say now. I just try and hide behind my hair and hope Roman doesn’t look at me. I really don’t know why my body reacted like that! What’s wrong with me?

Luckily the first warning bell rings, signalling for us to get ready to go to our next class, breaking the awkward silence.

“Now that introductions are out of the way, it would be best for us to head to our next classes. We can show you to your classrooms?” Logan offers, albeit a bit awkward. He must not be all that social. Welcome to the club. I nod silently.

“We’d like that,” Ann says after she sees my nod. She checks her schedule. “Uhm, I have Maths,” she says.

“Ooh! We do too! Roman and I!” Qikkie says, clapping her hands excitedly. “We can take you there and at the same time, make sure Jake doesn’t try and bother you!” Ann nods, but glances to me. “What do you have, Virgil?” Qikkie asks me. Guess she noticed the worry in Ann’s eyes.

I look at my schedule. And smile. I have Art! One of the few things I don’t suck at and have a hard time screwing up. _‘Art’ _I sign at Ann.

“Art? Cool!” Ann says, genuinely excited for me. It feels nice.

“Well, seems like you’ll be keeping me company, as I also have Art,” Logan says, adjusting his glasses unnecessarily. Must be a tick or something. He seems alright. I hope I’m not wrong like last time… “It is this way, Virgil.” I look around. Ann already left with Roman and Qikkie. I must’ve been zoning out. Wait, he’s walking away. Logan’s walking away. What do I do? Oh, right. He said he has Art too. I’m just gonna follow him.

I catch up to him pretty fast, though I do have a small limp from being pushed down on the ground. I really hope he doesn’t notice. We walk in silence. Obviously. Logan seems like someone who’s not up for unnecessary conversation, and I don’t really speak.

“So, Virgil. Might I inquire how long you’ve been unable to speak?” Logan suddenly breaks the silence. Great. “Do not worry about answering in sign-language, as I know some myself. Granted, I do not communicate in it every day. You do not have to answer if it’s too uncomfortable for you,” he adds after he, presumably, glances towards me and sees how I’m curling in on myself. It’s nice to know he actually cares about me. The least I could do after he and Roman basically saved me is answer him.

_‘Well… I’m not unable to speak, per se. My throat just closes up a lot. It’s been doing that for as long as I can remember, really. So, I really just use sign to speak with others. Others being my sister and father.’_ I hope that wasn’t too much for him to read. He did say he’s not the best.

“Ah. Selective mutism. I’m guessing you have heightened anxiety?” Logan asks. Wait, it’s actually called something? I thought I was just a weirdo. Huh. I do nod at his question about my anxiety. “Well, if you are called upon by the teacher, I shall translate as best I can for you if that is alright?” Again I nod.

He keeps his focus on me as we walk so I might as well ask. _‘Is there a specific reason why you know sign language?’_ Pleasedon’thatemepleasedon’thatemepleasedon’thatemepleas-

“Well, a good friend of mine, his mother is deaf. I spent a lot of time at their house growing up, so I picked up a few things, well, a lot. And I’ve always been fascinated by it,” Logan explains. Well. At least he doesn’t find me annoying. Yet. I think.

We walk for another minute in silence, my mind is seriously being an asshole right now. How far away is the Art classroom anyway?! Hey, it’s my first day, alright? Don’t expect me to remember where everything is to a tee from just one tour of the school! “Logan! There you are!” someone whisper-shouts. Someone’s waving at us, standing outside a classroom.

“Ah, that is my sister, Laylin. Relax, Laylin. It’s still another five minutes before class starts,” Logan addresses the girl in front of us. She rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, but you’re usually here _ten_ minutes before. Did Patton make you look at pictures of puppies again?” she remarks sarcastically. I’m just gonna assume that it’s something that’s only happened once and Laylin just keeps bringing it up to annoy Logan. That’s what I would do if Logan was my brother.

“That was _one time!_” Logan near hisses. “And no. Jake had sought out a new victim, so we stopped by to help. This is Virgil, by the way,” he says, nodding to me. I give a small wave at the girl in front of me.

“Nice to meet you, Virgil. I’m Laylin, Logan’s twin. Hope Jake didn’t give you a bad impression of the school. It’s the fewest that’s actually like him.” They’re twins. Why am I surprised? It’s the only explanation as to how they’re on the same year as siblings. Right?

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. Someone’s always by my side, so Jake stays away. We got some homework, but at least it’s something we covered last year in school, so I already did it and won’t have to agonise over it.

When we arrive at school the next day, Nini is standing just outside the doors, waving at us when she spots us. “So. Heard yesterday was quite eventful, huh? Next time Jake decides to annoy you, just drop my name, and he’ll back off,” she says as we reach her.

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Ann giggles. We head inside, and Nini guides us in the direction of our next class. We still have another fifteen minutes, but we’d like to be in good time, seeing as we missed the first lesson yesterday because we are new and needed a tour and everything.

The classroom’s up ahead, someone’s already standing outside the door, not blocking it though. Wait, is that Roman? Huh. His wardrobe is completely different from yesterday. Ann noticed him too. “Hey, Roman,” she says when we get close enough. He looks up, and did he dye his hair since yesterday? Because I don’t recall that grey streak in his hair. Then again, I only met the guy yesterday.

Roman starts laughing. Well, more like cackling, really. That… is not the reaction I expected at all. And from the way Ann mirrors my surprise and confusion, neither did she. I look around us, searching with my eyes as to what could be so funny. A guy (I assume, but still gonna refer with gender-neutral pronouns until I know for sure) is standing close by and looks like a confused bean. Like, literally. Looks like the definition of an innocent bean. Blue shirt, glasses, a cardigan tied around the shoulders, and a long skirt on.

“Remus? What’s going on?” they ask as they move closer.

REMUS?! The hell?! I glance at Anastacia. She looks as shocked as I am; mouth ajar and everything. Does this mean that yesterday was some sort of planned out practical joke? That they gave us fake names just to ridicule us today in school?

I can see their mouth moving, feel Ann’s hand on my arm, but I can’t hear. Shit! Not having a panic attack now! Not gonna happen! Pull yourself together, Virgil! Don’t need to make a bigger fool out of yourself than you already have. Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, and out for eight. Repeat.

“…iddo?” Great, I can hear again. My eyes focus again. The others are staring at me. Did I miss something? I tilt my head a bit to the side, Ann knows it means I’m listening but think I might’ve missed something in the conversation. Which I clearly did just now.

“Hey, there, kiddo. Glad you’re joining us again,” the person in the skirt says. “My name is Patton, he/him,” he smiles. He seems really bubbly, it’s actually a calming atmosphere to be in. I smile faintly at him to make sure he knows I heard him. I can hear footsteps in the distance.

He opens his mouth to say some more, but someone interrupts. Someone who wasn’t there before. And looks like Patton. Like, apart from the heterochromia and some lighter patches of skin on the left side of their face, they are identical. And now my confused state has increased. “Could you keep it down, Remus? I could hear you all the way at the end of the hallway,” they drawl, pointing over their shoulder, down the long hallway.

“Oh, heya, Janus!” Patton waves energetically. “I made some new friends! I think.” He looks at me, smiling. He then looks back at the newcomer, Janus, and starts explaining what just happened to make ‘Remus’ laugh like that.

She smiles (Patton mentioned her pronouns somewhere in his explanation. It went too fast for me to get the context for why he mentioned her pronouns, okay?) and chuckles a bit. “I can understand why you look so utterly confused. You two ran into Roman yesterday, right?” she asks. Her voice is smooth and a bit deep. I can see Ann nod in my periphery. “It is most likely that he didn’t mention Remus at all. You just met, after all. But, they are not the same person. They are twins. Identical twins. Patton and I are twins as well if you were wondering, which I can only assume you were. We are not identical twins, but we look very similar still,” she explains, and now I feel like a total fool. And idiot. _Of course,_ they are twins. That’s what makes the most sense. I’m getting a headache. “Oh, and I am genderfluid, so keep watch of my necklace,” she winks.

I look towards Anastacia, my anxiety forgotten. _‘I am getting a headache. There are _three_ pairs of twins, not including us, here. This is gonna get confusing fast,’_ I sign to her, to which she nods.

“Yeah, it is,” she agrees, taking my hand. “But we’re here together, so we get to share our confusion,” she winks.

“Oh, this is only half of us, darling,” Janus smirks. “But we should get to class, it’s about to start. Have fun.” She starts walking back down the hall. “By the way.” She stops and looks over her shoulder. “Welcome to the Twin Squad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this chapter out to you guys this week because I'm going to Amsterdam with my class on a study trip next week, all week, so I won't really be able to write while I'm there. Hope you all had fun with the chapter. And whatever could Dee mean when she said they'd only met half of them? *Faux pondering look*


	5. Author's Note

Hey all.

No, this is sadly not an update to the story, I apologise.

A lot has happened to me and my mental health since last, so I ask you to be patient with me. I am not abandoning this story, but you may not get an update in a while.

I thought I’d be able to write even more being in quarantine, but I was sorely mistaken. I had online school, which took a heavy toll on me. I started feeling depressed, I had way too many panic attacks due to school than I would’ve liked. I just didn’t have any motivation.

Physical school started up again for me a few weeks ago, and things are no better. However, I’ve finally been able to let my family know about my deteriorating mental health, and I’m seeing a doctor about it, making a plan of what to do. I’ve been to the student counsellor as well due to missed assignments which were due to my mental health, and she wants to work with the doctor and me on where we’re going next. I hope it’s therapy with the school therapist (since they offer it for free), but we’ll see. I’m going to see the doctor in late September again. I still haven’t talked to the counsellor because she’s been sent home in quarantine again due to a student in one of the classes she teaches has tested positive for COVID-19, so she and the other teachers and students need to get quarantined and tested.

I thank you all for sticking around for this long and continuing reading my stuff, and I ask for your patience with me. I love this story to death, and I really wanna finish it, not just for your sake, but for mine as well.

You all are amazing, and I love every single one of you.

Much love my guys, gals, and non-binary pals.

\- Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my Tumblr: dahliadragonheart
> 
> Come check out my Twitter: @GaaeiSandra
> 
> Don't have a beta, so if you want, you could contact me on either Tumblr or Twitter.
> 
> I've never written a person with anxiety, so I might get a lot of things wrong. If you want to correct me, if I'm doing something completely wrong, please let me know.
> 
> Also, I've never written a trans person before, so if I'm writing their troubles wrong, or you just want to add something that might be useful, don't be afraid to comment and let me know.
> 
> Until next time. Take it easy guys, gal, and non-binary pals. See ya.


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